


Will of the Father

by WandererofStars



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, But also Stan and Ford moments, But even he sheds some tears, But he is not so uptight as usual, Comedy, Dipper being responsible, Family Drama, Family Feels, Family moments, Father-Son Relationship, Filbrick's POV, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ford losing his patience with Stan, Mabel being her cheerful self, Other, Stan isn't a crybaby, Stan makes peace with Filbrick, Stan pranking Ford, Stan teasing Ford, some things never change, stan angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-27
Updated: 2018-12-27
Packaged: 2019-09-28 17:03:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17186909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererofStars/pseuds/WandererofStars
Summary: While sailing aboard the Stan O'War II to spend Christmas with his family, Stan Pines receives a letter written by his estranged father after his death and is forced to confront issues from his past he's tried to ignore all his life.





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> The story deals with Stan and Filbrick's tense relationship. Since it's Christmas, family-related issues always surface. I felt this was the chance for Stan to make peace with the memory of his father.
> 
> The story was written as a Christmas gift to my friend Ame.

The Stan O’ War II set sail, departing from the coast of Italy. The Mediterranean Sea was calm that day, and the warm breeze made the Southern European winter more bearable. The twins had basked in the beauty of Italian women, enjoyed the rustic cuisine and marvelled at the great ruins from the Roman Empire. The twins agreed there was no country in Europe like Italy. And one day, they would have to return. 

The wind ruffled Stan’s hair as he walked on the main deck. It was five in the morning. Ford must have been exhausted from manning the steering wheel all night. The twins worked different shifts. Stan steered the ship mornings and afternoons. Ford took the helm on evenings till dawn. That arrangement suited the twins as Stan was used to waking up pretty early to open the Mystery Shack, while his brother usually stayed up until late working in the basement. 

Stan yelled from below at the nearly asleep figure manning the helm.

‘Sixer! Oy, Sixer!’ 

The scientist barely steered at his brother’s calling. Ford had probably dozed off at some point. Stan climbed the stairs to the deck and landed a hand on Ford’s shoulder, trying to shake him until he woke up. His brother was snoring. Stan watched his sleeping form with a wide grin.

He slowly approached his face from Ford’s ear and yelled:

‘ **ICEBERG AT TWO O’CLOCK!** ’

Ford woke up with a start and forgot he was asleep on top of the steering wheel. The wheel turned under his weight and he fell to the floor with a loud thud. Stan slapped his knee as he howled with laughter.

‘I’m sorry, Sixer, but... _ your face _ …’ he choked between laughs, wiping tears from his face.

‘That’s not funny, Stanley! You almost gave me a heart attack!’ Ford complained, sitting on the floor with an angry face.

He extended a hand at his brother and Stan helped him get up. To his surprise, Ford was wearing a small smile on the corner of his mouth. His brother was learning to be less formal and uptight, no doubt thanks to the many trips they had been enjoying over the past few years. 

‘I can’t wait to get some shut-eye. Are Dipper and Mabel still asleep?’ Ford asked.

‘Dipper is. Mabel just got up. She’s an early riser, just like me. Had to stop her from trying to wake Dipper up.’ he answered.

Ford shook his head.

‘She can’t keep that fiery spirit under control for too long, huh?’ 

‘No rest for the wicked.’ Stan replied with a smirk.

* * *

 

Five hours later, Ford was awakened by the delicious scent of scrambled eggs and cooked sausage. He could hear Dipper warning Stan about something and the sound of cooking pots banging against a counter. He saw through a pair of slits his nephew helping his brother cook breakfast as usual.

The scent of food was one of the few things in this world capable of waking up a reluctant Ford Pines. Even an accomplished scientist and researcher like himself needed to take breaks to do something as mundane as eat. And as much as he was reluctant to admit, Stan’s cooking had improved over the years. Probably because of Dipper’s interference. The boy just couldn't survive an entire three-month journey overseas on stancakes alone. And Stan wouldn’t let anyone man his kitchen. Hence the unlikely duo now being responsible for planning and executing the family’s meals aboard the ship.

Dipper turned around and saw his favorite grunkle was up. 

‘Great uncle Ford! We’re about to have breakfast. Mabel is already outside, setting the table. Maybe she could use some help.’ he suggested.

Ford got up from his bunker bed and went to help his niece. As a matter of fact, he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t try to throw glitter on the tablecloth. The twins were already thirteen, but some habits just died hard. Dipper still enjoyed wearing a cap and a vest - Wendy’s lumberjack hat was safely stored at his home, in his secret chest of prized possessions -, while Mabel still wore rainbow or unicorn-themed shirts and enjoyed throwing glitter around on special occasions. The twins were definitely taller and less childlike than when the Pines brothers had last seen them, of course; but to them, they were still their young niece and nephew.

Mabel spotted her second favorite grunkle and flashed her characteristic smile.   

‘Great uncle Ford! You lazy bum! You finally woke up in time for breakfast. Here, sit!’

Ford rubbed his eyes and yawned as he sat down in the plastic chair. The Pines always ate outside. The captain's cabin was just too tight to fit four people and a table. Once the meal arrived, Ford and Dipper ate in silence while Mabel and Stan couldn't shut up about their last adventure.

‘Did you see the way that mermaid thrashed in the net? I bet it thought it had outsmarted us. It underestimated the Stan O’ War’s speed!  **HA** !’ Stan said, banging his fist on the table excitedly.

‘ _ He _ . They were a  _ he _ , Grunkle Stan.’ Dipper reminded him.

Stan groaned and rolled his eyes. He couldn't care less.

‘And what about that time when the dolphins followed us? I’ve never seen dolphins following ships before!’ Mabel squeaked. ‘I thought they feared humans! Do they always do that?’

Ford said they did, although it was not every ship they followed. 

‘Animals are incredibly clever. Sea creatures, even more so. Dolphins and whales will often get close to ships they deem safe to approach. They’ll also avoid attacking divers and befriend them on occasion. Usually the ones they recognise.’ he explained.

Mabel’s eyes shone like stars and Dipper thought she would blow up in a shower of light. 

‘Can we get some diving equipment? I want to befriend a dolphin! Can we bring a dolphin home? We can keep it in an aquarium! Or maybe in a water park!’

Mabel wouldn’t stop babbling. Ford sighed and his gaze shifted to Stan.  

‘Mabel, let a man enjoy his breakfast.’ he said.

‘But can we get some diving equipment? Pleeease?’ she gave him puppy eyes.

‘Sure, pumpkin. We’ll see about that once we get back home.’ he replied, going back to munching his scrambled eggs. 

Ford put down his fork and stared back at Stan, annoyed. This was supposed to be a scientific expedition, as well as an opportunity to educate the twins about navigation, not a leisurely trip. He was too tired to argue, so he just shook his head and went back to finishing his scrambled eggs.

 


	2. 2

Stan was busy teaching Mabel how to take the helm. Meanwhile, Ford was reading Dipper’s journal at his nephew's request. He had to give it to him. The boy had a knack for writing. He had written down all of their adventures so far, but given them his special touch. Instead of ordinary journal entries that sounded more like a report, Dipper had turned each entry into an exciting tale which captivated the reader’s attention. 

Ford pondered on the possibilities for Dipper’s future. Maybe his talents lie not in the field of quantum physics and mechanical engineering like his grunkle, but in becoming a novelist? He could easily make a living as a journalist. Or even have a TV show where he narrated adventures in remote places of the globe. 

Dipper coughed politely and approached his grunkle looking a bit fidgety. He was trying to keep his anxiety under control.

‘So, what d’you think of my journal? You think I’m portraying our discoveries faithfully?’

Ford closed the journal with a pine tree on the cover and handed it back to him.

‘I’d say you have a future in writing. You’ve definitely developed your own style, Dipper. You’re no longer just emulating your old grunkle and trying to keep a journal of your own. You’ve gone beyond that and have found your own voice.’

Dipper’s eyes went wide as saucers and he couldn't stop smiling.

‘Really? But...I wanted to become a researcher. Just like you.’ he said, shoulders hunching a little.

Ford chuckled and placed his hands in his pockets.

‘Dipper. You can be a scientist  **_and_ ** a writer. There’s nothing stopping you from pursuing both, y’know.’ he smiled.

Ford fondly ruffled his nephew’s hair, glancing at Stanley, who was still teaching Mabel how to steer the ship. He could hear his brother telling his pumpkin to  _ turn the wheel this way _ , to  _ press the lever this way and not that way to change speed _ , to make sure she learned how to read each instrument correctly and make sure she knew how they worked...she was a quick learner, even if a bit clumsy at first. Still, Stanley looked happy. More happy than he had ever been. For some reason, he and Mabel always got along well.

Ford stopped to check the calendar through the window of the captain’s cabin again. It was December twenty-fourth. He frowned. Tomorrow would be Christmas. A date which, prior to Stanley’s amnesia, was one that always brought his brother a lot of painful memories. He glanced at Stanley again. He didn't recognise the signs of unhappiness on his face. Could his brother have forgotten all about that fateful day, when their father had thrown Stanley out of home and never seen his son again? 

Ford clutched his hand around the letter in his pocket. He didn't want to ruin Stanley’s Christmas. He didn't want to send his brother down a heartbreaking memory lane, but he was legally bound to show it to his brother the moment the letter was delivered to him. He glanced at Stanley once more. His hands were tied.

He climbed the stairs with heavy steps. The sound of laughter came from the deck above. Stan was tickling Mabel for every mistake she made. She was thrown in a fit of laughter. His gaze fell on his twin watching them from the stairs with a concerned look. Ford cleared his throat and caught Mabel’s attention.

‘Yeah, great uncle Ford?’ she asked in a cheerful voice.

‘Would you give your grunkles some time to talk, pumpkin?’ Stan asked kindly.

She giggled and said ‘Of course!’, searching for Dipper as she hopped down the stairs. Stan and Ford exchanged glances as their niece and nephew talked. 

‘Dipper, I’ve learned how to steer a ship! We can go sailing now! Just you and me!’ she shouted below.

‘Mabel, are you crazy? Stan has only shown you the basics! It’s not safe for you to steer a ship on your own just yet.’ he replied.

‘Why don’t you trust me to steer a ship? Is it because I’m a girl?’ she asked angrily.

‘What? Oh, Mabel, c’mon! You’ve only had a couple of lessons and now you think you’re Jack Sparrow!’ he retorted.

‘Fine! I’m going to sail on my own, I’m gonna find some dolphins and get a mermaid boyfriend! Just you wait.’ she yelled, stomping her foot.

‘You’re gonna get yourself killed, that’s what! Mabel, you’re not gonna sail on your own!’ he added, seeing she was not listening.

‘ _ Watch me _ .’ she said, storming toward the captain’s cabin and shutting the door on Dipper’s face. 

The Pines brothers laughed at the whole exchange. They were thankful to Shermie for having allowed Dipper and Mabel to spend Christmas holidays with them. The kids were all grown up, but still behaved like children sometimes. It reminded them of their time as kids as well. Or at least Ford was reminded of it.

His frown returned to his face and he squeezed the letter once more.

‘Stanley, there’s something I should show you. There’s a reason why I suggested we set sail to Italy last week...’ 

‘What is it, Sixer?’

‘Maybe you should sit down.’

Stan turned on the automatic pilot and sat with Ford on top of a couple of heavy chests. He had never seen his brother looking so grim.

‘What happened? You received some bad news on the continent?’

Ford struggled, trying to find the right words, but thought it was better to just keep it simple.

‘Stanley, how much do you remember about the day you left home?’

His eyes went dark and the sailor’s smile turned into a crestfallen expression. 

‘Not much.’ he said in a quiet tone. ‘Only that dad was mad at me for some reason. I remember being yelled at, both by you and him, then being thrown on the sidewalk, and then...just leaving. With the car.’

Ford sighed heavily. This was going to be a lot more difficult than he anticipated. He adjusted his glasses and began to explain all the reasons that led dad to taking such drastic measures. Ford was honest with his brother. If he was going to recover from his amnesia, he needed to be told the truth. The whole truth.

Once Ford was finished, Stan was unusually silent. A shadow covered his features. Ford now knew that he remembered. Maybe the memory had been blocked by trauma, but it was still there. Buried beneath years of loneliness and hardship.

‘I regret being the one forcing you to relive all that. If it were up to me, I would’ve never helped you remember that part of your life.’ Ford confessed.

Stan squeezed his brother’s shoulder gently.

‘It’s okay, Poindexter. I’d rather remember than remain in the dark. For some time now, I was aware something wrong had happened within our family. I knew there was some bad blood between us and... between... me and dad. I just couldn't figure out what it was for myself.’ he said quietly.

Ford hesitated before going on.

‘That’s not all.’

He removed the letter from his pocket and showed it to his brother.

‘Our family’s lawyer contacted me last week to...to...he told me that...’

Stan glanced at Ford. His brother looked worried and hesitated.

‘What is it?’

Ford blurted it out. ‘Filbrick...passed away, Stan. Only ten days ago.’

Stan’s eyebrows shot all the way to his hairline.

‘Yeah, I know. I wasn't ready for such news, either. The last time I went to see dad, he was fine. He had some trouble walking, but was fine. I’m as shocked as you are.’

Stan swallowed hard. ‘At least you got to see him.’

Ford’s heart skipped a beat. He knew Stan must feel miserable. He didn't want his brother to feel hurt ever again. He only hoped the letter could heal what time could not.

‘Dad left his will with our lawyer. He also left... **this.** ’

Stan looked at the envelope in Ford’s hand. It was addressed to  **his twin sons, Stanford and Stanley Pines** . He thought his eyes were deceiving him. After all this time, Filbrick was admitting Stanley was still his son?

Ford could sense Stan’s hesitation.

‘You really should read it, Stanley. This will answer a lot of questions you might have.’ he said.

With trembling hands, Stan opened the envelope, his heart racing in his chest. There were two letters within. One addressed to Stanford and one with his name in his father’s handwriting. He gasped and glanced at his brother, who encouraged him to open it. Steeling himself, he began to read:

 

_**My dear son** , _

_ As I’m writing this letter, I find myself at a predicament. Your mother passed away last month after a long fight against lung cancer. And her last wish was that you and I settle any differences we have between us. I don’t know whether I’ll still be alive when I have the chance to meet you, so I’m leaving my thoughts in the shape of a letter, to be delivered to you and your brother along with my will. I’m having a hard time putting into words all that I have to say to you. Which is why your brother Sherman is helping me write it all down. _

_ It all began when I cast you out of home. You may think of me as a bad father for having done this, but you were a rebellious kid. Even when I tried to teach you to be smart, to have some discipline, so you could survive in this world, you never listened to me. You always went against my orders, even when they were for your benefit. But it wasn't your fault. You were always protected by your mother, remember? Whenever I would scold you for some wrongdoing, there was your mother to defend you, even when she knew you wouldn’t listen to her anyway after she scolded you. _

_ For some reason, your brother grew up to be very different from you. From an early age, he knew what he wanted to be. But that doesn’t mean I didn't love you both. Stanford told me how upset you were as a kid because I treated you differently. I guess I never showed you how proud I was of you sometimes. You might have been a little rascal, but you sure didn't lack for boldness and ingenuity, just like me. I never told you this, but the pawn shop wasn't my only means of income. I had many businesses and some of them might not have been exactly legal. I guess you inherited that from me. And when I saw the same personality streak showing through your actions, I panicked as a father. I didn't want you to follow in my footsteps. I knew better than anyone that it would only lead you to trouble. _

_ I still kept that number one dad medal you made for me. I never told you how happy I was when I received it. I feared that, if I did, you would learn it was alright to take other things in the future from other people, even with good intentions. And that’s where I had to draw the line.  _

_ Too much time has passed and I never intended for you to leave home and never come back. It was my hope you could return and at least come visit your mother and I from time to time, so we would know how you were faring. But after you left, it was impossible to find you. You had disappeared.  _

_ Your mother and I spent the following years wondering where you were, how you were and if you needed anything. We never stopped worrying about you once. Shermie would often ask us about his brother Stanley and we wouldn’t know what to say. I now see it was a mistake to throw you out of my doorstep that day. If I knew it would cost me a son, I would go back on my actions that day.  _

_ I have asked my lawyer to deliver this letter to you and Stanford at the moment of my death. Not because I do not wish to talk to you once again, Stanley, but because I’m afraid it would be hard for me to reconcile with you after all these years. Know this: you are my son and I have never stopped considering you as such. And as a stern father,  **nothing has made me prouder than to learn you stood up for your family and defended them when the time came** . It is my will you live a happy, long life without any resentment toward your old man, for I have never regretted having you as my son. I only hope this letter may redeem any hard feelings there are still left between us and know that, no matter what path you chose in life, know that I’m proud of you and will be watching over you from where I go. _

_ Sincerely, _

**Filbrick Pines**


	3. 3

Ford watched his brother in silence as Stan finished reading. His brother stared at the horizon, deep in thought.

‘Stan?’ he asked timidly.

He watched the corner of his brother’s mouth twitch and tremble as he tried to hold back the tears. His nose got even redder than usual and Stan’s shoulders were soon shaking. The waterworks started and Ford scooted closer to him, holding his brother with one arm. His hand traveled up and down his back as he tried to comfort him.

Stan wiped his tears on his sleeve and he saw a handkerchief being held in front of him. He thanked his brother quietly, blowing his nose ridiculously loudly. Ford wore a scowl, but said nothing. Now was not the time to reprimand Stan.

‘I told him about your actions in Gravity Falls. I had to… _modify_ the story somehow so that dad would understand what happened. I told him Bill was a criminal who tried to kidnap innocent people. Once he took me captive, you sacrificed yourself to save me and made sure Dipper and Mabel were safe while you went to rescue me. In the end, he was impressed with you and did admit he went too far all those years ago.’ Ford said.

‘Yeah. He could’ve done it sooner, though. I phoned home a couple of times. Sent letters. But I guess the ol’ man just didn't care enough.’ Stan retorted in a hoarse voice.

‘Dad moved shortly after I went to college. He had some trouble paying some debts he owed some shady people and left Jersey to protect ma and Shermie.’

Stan gave his brother a surprised look. He had never learned about any of this.

Ford let out a long sigh. He and Stan watched the sunset. The way the horizon line seemed to burn always bewitched the twins.

‘I know this isn’t the best Christmas gift, but I figured a full admission from our dad was the least I could give you. I hope you’re not angry at me.’

Stan sniffled, sounding tearful, but somehow happy: ‘Angry? No, I’m not angry at you, Sixer. You proved yourself to be a good brother in the end. The best. I only wish we hadn’t wasted so much time.’

Ford felt a pang of guilt in his chest. ‘You can blame me for that.’

‘Yeah, you were always hard headed.’ Stan said playfully.

‘Don’t start.’ Ford warned.

Stan smirked.

‘By the way, Poindexter, I’m having trouble remembering some things.’ Stan said.

Ford quirked an eyebrow. ‘Such as?’

‘Did you manage to pop that cherry while we were apart? I don’t remember if you’ve told me that.’

Ford stared back at his brother in disbelief. Stan was looking teary-eyed and his nose was red and bloated. Still, the old rascal wore a mischievous smirk and had the nerve to ask him if he was still a virgin.

Ford refused to answer him. ‘Oh, for the love of-’

Stan nudged him, stifling a laughter. ‘C’mon, Sixer. Did you nail some babes in college or not?’

‘Goddammit, Stanley, this was supposed to be a chance to talk about family and sort out any memory problems you still had. Instead you take advantage of the fact that I have my guard down to...to...ask me stupid questions!’ he retorted angrily, scowling.

Stan was having way too much fun. ‘So you still haven't got a woman to let _their_ guard down around you, huh?’

Dipper cleared his throat loudly, standing behind them.

‘It’s time for dinner. I thought you’d want to help me cook before Mabel gets any ideas and monopolizes the kitchen.’

Stan promptly got up. ‘Alright, Dips. I’m comin’.’

Dipper saw his grunkle had been crying. ‘Grunkle Stan, is everything alright?’

Stan turned to look at him. Dipper was usually indifferent to his grunkle while he was spending Summer in Gravity Falls for the first time. But since then, the boy had grown and matured a bit. He had grown out of that nerdy boy shell. He was taking responsibilities and being more attentive than usual. As he watched Stan with concerned eyes, the man realised he never came to appreciate his nephew as much as he deserved.

Stan opened a genuine smile and ruffled Dipper’s hair, accidentally knocking his cap to the floor and gave him a noogie. The boy was going to complain, but decided to let his grunkle have his way with him. The man was looking far from fine. This was his way of showing appreciation for his family, anyway.

‘C’mon, Dips! Let’s make the best damn dinner this family has ever had!’ he laughed heartily.

‘We only have Cup Noodles left. And some chicken nuggets.’ he replied, adjusting his cap on his head and following his grunkle.

Night fell and the Pines gathered around the table near the captain’s cabin to enjoy Christmas eve together. Mabel had lit some nice aromatic candles and managed to cook the nuggets without burning them. Other families were gathered within warm houses nicely decorated with Christmas lights and pine trees, eating turkey and drinking wine. Many had stopped calling relatives family a long time ago. Some felt alone surrounded by their own blood. Meanwhile, the Pines enjoyed their simple meal in each other’s company, eating and chatting away, enjoying something which was absent in many families on Christmas.

Stan scanned the table with his eyes, watching his beloved niece and nephew, and his brother, whom he thought was lost to him and felt fortunate to have such a beautiful family. Nevermind the years of loneliness and the hardships he faced. All amounted to this single moment.

His father’s words struck a deep chord within him and it was as if a weight he had been dragging for fourty years was finally lifted from his shoulders. He ate his nuggets feeling as lighthearted as his ten year-old self and he smiled at the memories of his own childhood. Despite everything that had happened, he was happy. For the first time in a long time, Stan felt his mother and father were watching over him on that Christmas eve. And wherever they were, he was sure they were proud of their son.

 


End file.
